


Funk Me

by GettingMetaphysical



Series: Doctor-on-Doctor Shenanigans [5]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Doctorcest, Happy Sex, Introspection, M/M, Mind Meld, Mind Sex, POV First Person, Self-cest, doctorbation - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Explicit Sex - Warning
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3270605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettingMetaphysical/pseuds/GettingMetaphysical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Sixth Doctor seduces the Fourth Doctor into having mindsex. And also the usual type of sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Funk Me

**Author's Note:**

> A mindsexy drabble based on this piece of artwork ( http://gettingmetaphysical.tumblr.com/post/78907873871/whats-better-than-mindsex-mindsex-during-sex ) and this piece of music ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dZTagdPeadk ).
> 
> * * *

  
As these encounters go, I found that my memory of the future Doctor’s actions had been entirely justified. Now that I had become that Sixth self, I felt it was one of those rare times wherein I craved intimacy, would turn erratically sultry. Indeed, it was a convenient time for my Fourth self to yet again excuse his desire with mischievousness.

But that was my choice, as I always have one. On the older hand, I wished to get inside his head… And, with the sleight of word and sway of hip, suggest he get inside me.

In spite of this slyness, I didn’t intend for him to capture me in this way. I knew I teased myself verbally, all too aware of my yearnings. But I had no real control of what my hands did to make his touch me like that; not quite sure when we got out of the lounge and I was thrown onto a bed; not clear on how our coats or shirts or pants went missing… Even living the experience twice did not solve the question of who’s body exerted more unabashed, furious force, as the two clashed and clutched in lust.

To be fair, my minds were busy.

Telepathic bonding, or fornication through linking of the minds, is vastly more complicated than the insertion of plug four into slot six. However, so is sex in general.

There was never any one way to do it, and there never would be. Especially not when my skillful self was involved. Well, selves - my Fourth one thankfully never trusted his intense demeanor to automate his intense performance… hard to perceive as that might be.

Me, I simply led him on until we were laced together. As intricate knot work, as a bundle of living ribbons, twisting and gliding and ripping across each other. Each whisk of mind against mind as potent as the grinding of our hips, him plunging inside of me… Every thrust incinerated rational thought, maddening us in explosions of poisonous strikes of rainbow and the sharp sensation of smiles and cries and laughter… Low-voiced love brewing beneath it all, making the writhing mass that was my two selves boil. Two consciousnesses, hooked together - blending cores, mending wounds. In some realities, we were as one.

More so than the teeth on my neck, fingernails on the small of his back, my singing edges pierced his hearts from all directions, including internal, while his sparks crept into and rushed through my skull, calling out of my throat, spine, chest, to my loins and out of the tips of my toes and my cock.

Hot and grateful, we performed the reverse. And the reverse of that. Repeated, repeated, repeated until these exchanges of luscious lightning bolts made the ravaged bodies threaten to cool down, and the mind that was two couldn’t tell itself apart.

In the audacious aftershock of yet another convulsing climax, the contact finally broke off. The lace unravelled, frantically retreating into the head of each owner. I both opened my eyes, and beheld my Fourth and Sixth faces; sweaty, scarlet, damp corkscrew curls clinging loosely to cheeks and foreheads, mouths half-open, eyes half-lidded, beings half-serene.

My current mind re-established I was the Sixth when my face didn’t reflect how the dark-haired one grinned back at me. Not the wild, shining and frankly alarming grin that usually twisted his features, but rather one dialed back a bit, one… soft, nearly sweet.

He collapsed on top of me - not so much of exhaustion as of relaxation. I caught him in my strong arms, rolled us over on our sides; I sincerely welcome that self’s moments of snug appreciation.

He spoke nonsense to my hair, too floppy to return the embrace. I was too soothed to care.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=55059>


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